There Goes My Heart (The Sullivans #20) - Bella Andre Page 0,14

her, his mouth barely a breath away—

And then his lips were pressed to hers in a kiss unlike any she’d ever known.

Soft.

Sweet.

And yet ripe with sensuality.

Somewhere in the back of her brain, Zara knew this wasn’t part of the plan. They hadn’t agreed to kiss. Heck, they had barely agreed to hold hands as they walked inside.

But she couldn’t pull back.

Not when Rory’s kiss felt more right than anything else ever had.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Only when Zara’s father—or maybe it was Cameron—cleared his throat did they finally release each other. Even with their audience, however, Zara still couldn’t bring herself to look away from Rory’s face.

Had he felt it too?

Like the earth had stopped spinning?

And diving in for another kiss was the only thing that mattered?

Unfortunately, she couldn’t read what she saw in his eyes. And even if she could, how would she have been able to trust it when he would likely have just been playing his part? How could she trust anything that happened between them tonight when it was all predicated on a lie?

“Young love,” her stepmother sighed, looking more than a little flushed by the kiss she’d witnessed. “Is there anything else like it?”

Good thing no one seemed to expect Zara to speak. Because she couldn’t wrap her head around what had just happened. By what she had just felt.

Her feel nothing mantra was more useless than ever. Still, she had to pull it together—and quickly—before Brittany or Cameron realized anything was amiss. The last thing she wanted was for the two of them to figure out that she and Rory were just putting on a show. That would only make her look more ridiculous and pathetic.

“I’m starved,” she said.

“I’ll take you over to the buffet,” Brittany said, grabbing Zara’s free arm to yank her away from Rory.

For a few moments, Zara was the rope in a tug-of-war, with both of them holding tight to her. After she shot a quick look to Rory—it’s okay, you should go have a well-earned drink—he let her go.

“Well, aren’t you a dark horse?” Brittany grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to Zara. “I can’t believe you’ve kept that gorgeous specimen of a man a secret for so long.” She paused to take a tiny sip of her drink, her eyes narrowing fractionally. “How long have you been seeing him, exactly?”

“We flirted with each other for the better part of the past year,” Zara said in an easy voice, “before I finally gave in and went out with him.”

“So it’s really true that he was pursuing you this whole time?”

Zara knew Brittany wasn’t being mean. Her stepsister always wanted to know every single detail. It was why she was great at PR—she rarely overlooked any of the particulars, whether a style of shoe or dress, or a casually dropped name or location.

“I’ve never seen a man so determined.” Zara smiled at her fib as she sipped from her glass. “The chase was fun, but at a certain point, I couldn’t hold out any longer.”

Her stepsister turned to look at Rory, now standing by the bar with Zara’s father and Cameron. Rory looked perfectly comfortable as he talked with them. Brittany’s fiancé, on the other hand, seemed to be gulping his wine rather desperately.

“What woman could resist a man like that?” Brittany murmured.

Jealousy speared Zara in the center of her chest, just from her stepsisters looking at Rory like she wanted to lick him from head to toe. Which didn’t make sense when Zara and Rory were not actually a couple, and she had no claim on him in any way other than as her co-conspirator for the night.

“Now it’s your turn to tell me everything,” Zara said, planting a bright smile on her face. “How did Cameron propose?”

Zara had expected Brittany to relish giving her every last detail of the proposal, but her stepsister barely seemed to hear the question. She hadn’t yet taken her eyes off Rory. “His name and face are so familiar, but I would have remembered if I’d met him before…” She snapped her fingers. “I remember now! My colleague shot him for a piece a client did in conjunction with Maine makers earlier this year. I wasn’t able to attend the shoot, but I will admit to drooling a bit over the pictures.”

Zara was used to biting her tongue around her stepsister. But she couldn’t keep from saying, “You did a piece on makers in Maine…and you didn’t ask me to